Don’t Want To Marry Him
Months prior to finding out that my older man, Derrick, was married, we had discussed the prospect of kids. I was still young and wanted a family. He, on the other hand, had three children who were grown up, and he had no desire to have more. At the time, it wasn’t a deal breaker for me—I figured one day I would be able to convince him otherwise, or I’d just get over it.
I decided to use this now as my excuse for breaking off our engagement. I proceeded to tell Derrick that I could no longer marry a man who was so much older. I explained that I really wanted kids, and that I needed someone who could give me everything I needed, especially the things that money couldn’t buy. I continued to tell him how much I loved him, which was true, but that I was tired of always coming in second and would rather break up.
“I hate that I can’t sleep with you every night and that you’re always at work,” I told him. “I hate that our life revolves around your business, and your friends, and your wife!” I didn’t hold anything back, and powered through the tears pouring down my face. “I am not second choice! That was never the agreement. You lied to me from the start, and now I’m supposed to wait for you to decide whether or not you’re leaving her?” I did not let him speak—every time he opened his mouth to say something, I got even louder.
“We both know that you will never leave her, especially if it means losing your money. You can’t buy my love anymore, Derrick. I am not a prostitute or escort. I am a human being who is desperately in love with you. But Derrick, no matter how much you love me, or how much money you spend on me, you could never, ever give me what I need. I need love and attention. I need things that money can’t buy. Maybe your wife prefers money over love, but I don’t. Love comes first, money second.”
When I was finally done, I sat and cried on the couch for a few minutes, and he remained silent. He just sat next to me, wrapped his arms around me, kissed my forehead, and held my hand. Looking back, I think he felt bad. I’m sure he must have cared for me; I can’t imagine that he didn’t. But his reaction shocked me.
When I finally composed myself, he seemed relieved, almost as if he was planning on breaking up the engagement himself the entire time, and I had just saved him the trouble. This shook me to the core, but I did my best to keep my head up. I left the ball in his court—I told him that I still loved him, and that he had two choices: One, break off our engagement and we each go our separate ways forever, or two, break off the engagement and continue seeing each other until the relationship ran its course.
I still couldn’t stop crying. I had just gone from being completely blissful and engaged to the man of my dreams, to now knowing that my dream man was happily married to someone else. Derrick wiped my tears away one last time. Again, he smiled and kissed my forehead. He ensured me that he didn’t want to lose me. “We’ll figure something out, Cassie. You mean too much for me to lose you.” And with those words, I officially went from being his fiancée, to the girl on the side.